OPINION
Page 6 n THE ASIAN REPORTER
May 5, 2014
Volume 24 Number 9
May 5, 2014
ISSN: 1094-9453
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MY TURN
n Wayne Chan
Bike locks and Beatles
music make for good
parenting lessons
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here’s no two ways about it — being a parent
is a humbling experience.
Generally, I think I know what I’m doing.
Be fair, but be consistent. Give your kids a helping
hand, but don’t do everything for them. Love them
unconditionally.
For the most part, that covers about 80 percent of
anything I ever face. Unfortunately, that leaves
about 20 percent of the time when I can make a
complete idiot of myself.
A perfect example — the case of the unlocked
bicycle.
Earlier this spring, I was in charge of delivering
snacks and drinks to my son Tyler’s junior varsity
tennis team. Tyler also had a doctor’s appointment
right after the match, so I knew timing that day
would be pretty tight.
Being the smart, logistical dad that I am, I
decided on my way to the tennis match that I should
pick up the bike Tyler rides to school every day so we
could make it on time to the doctor’s appointment.
Way to think ahead, dad! I should have been a
professional chess player.
As I pulled up to the bike area, I saw Tyler’s bike
parked in the bike rack, but also noticed it was not
locked up.
You might be wondering, “Well, why doesn’t he
have a lock?” It’s a logical question. But my answer
would be that the bike did have a lock — it was just
wrapped around the frame of the bike instead of
actually being locked to the bike rack.
Tyler apparently decided he would forego the
whole pesky bike-locking process in favor of a
more
laissez-faire,
who-would-ever-think-of-
stealing-my-expensive-unlocked-bike-sitting-alone
-in-the- bike-rack philosophy.
I have a theory about teenagers.
The theory is that all teenagers in their
developmental years have skulls so thick that it
crowds out 99 percent of any brain matter that
would normally be there. I call this developmental
stage “Boneheadia Screwupity.”
As I made my way to the tennis courts (feeling it
was my fiduciary responsibility to bring up the
unlocked bike situation), I approached Tyler.
Wayne: Ty — How can you not lock up your bike,
especially when you have a perfectly good bike lock
right on the bike?
T
Tyler: I dunno.
Wayne: I mean, you have this expensive bike —
how can you be so careless not to lock it up!?
Tyler: I’ve left it unlocked all year long and no
one’s ever taken it. How can you be so sure someone
will take it?
Wayne: Because I did the same thing in high
school and somebody swiped my bike!!!
As I said earlier, being a parent is a humbling
experience. But let me end this column on a
different note.
This next story is kind of a big deal for me. First,
besides Tyler, my wife Maya and I are also the
parents of Ethan and Savannah. The three of them
are triplets and they are now 16 years old. Beyond
that, Ethan and Savannah are autistic. They don’t
speak much, but they are terrific kids.
Second, I love the Beatles.
Not long ago, I took all three of the kids to a
Beatles tribute show. I knew Tyler would love it, but
to be honest, I only brought Ethan and Savannah
because the tickets were inexpensive and I did not
have anyone who could watch them at home. They’d
never expressed any interest in the Beatles that I
could ever tell, but I thought it would be a nice night
out with the kids while Maya was away on business.
When the show started, Savannah started
bobbing her head, then she stood up and started
dancing and singing. She knew the words to “Hey
Jude,” “Can’t Buy Me Love,” “Get Back,” and many
others. All this was coming from my daughter who
normally doesn’t say more than a word or two at a
time.
Of course, I play the Beatles in the car a lot when
I’m driving them around, but I really had no idea
she had picked up on the lyrics. She sang along to
many of the songs with a big smile on her face. Tyler
and I were on each side of her and we were simply
amazed.
I can’t tell you how blown away I was to see her
like this. I will never underestimate her again.
At one point, she sang the words to “Blackbird”:
Blackbird singing
in the dead of night.
Take these broken wings
and learn to fly.
Those 15 words mean so much more to me now. It
truly was a humbling experience.
Opinions expressed in this newspaper are those of the authors and not necessarily those of this publication.
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